


September Sun

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Series: Seasons [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Best Friends, Good Mythical Potluck, Long time coming, M/M, Sweet Tea, Through the Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: Thank you @clemwasjustagirl/shewasjustagirl for the support and enabling, and for helping me make this fic the best version of itself.





	September Sun

Rhett carefully climbed the ladder to the platform in the trees. They hadn’t been up here in ages, and the wood creaked under his feet. He was much taller now, too, and nearly cracked his head on the wood around the hole cut in the floor. The platform was supposed to be a treehouse, but after getting it to platform stage, the project was abandoned. That hadn’t stopped them from spending hours up there talking and playing as kids, though.

Link was already settled in when Rhett reached the top, back leaning against the tree trunk that helped secure the platform.

“I’m getting too old for this,” Rhett groaned, settling himself onto the platform next to Link.

“Too old? You’re freakin’ 17, man. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us and you’re already complaining about being too old? Get back to me when you’re 40, and then we’ll talk about too old.” Link playfully jabbed Rhett with his elbow.

“Yeah, whatever.” Rhett smiled. Link passed him the jug he’d hauled up with him. Rhett took a long swig. It was sticky-sweet and caramel-colored, the kind of sweet tea that you only find in the south. It was homemade and still a little bit warm from the sun. Link’s mom made the best sweet tea. He placed the jug next to him, stretching his long body across the platform. His toes were hanging off the edge, his long body just longer than the platform itself. He looked at the speckled sunlight above him, peeking between the tree leaves that were already changing from green to orange and red as September faded toward October.

Link took a drink, too, then closed the lid and stretched out alongside Rhett on his stomach, his head resting on his crossed arms.

“Hey Rhett? I’m not going to get old, I think. I’m going to stay like this forever. I mean, I’ll keep getting older or whatever time-wise. I know that. But I think in my heart-of-hearts, I’ll probably always feel young.”

“How are we gonna stop ourselves from getting old?” Rhett mused, knowing that whatever Link’s plan was, he was game for it, too. They were a package deal, eternal partners in crime, or at least tomfoolery.

“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Link mused. He lifted his head enough to take one more loud gulp of sweet tea. He wiped his mouth and settled back down onto his arms.

“Gotta grow up sometime, buddyroll,” Rhett murmured. He looked over at Link, who already had his eyes closed. Rhett let his eyes slip closed, too. The crisp autumn breeze was lulling him into a sense of contentment, and they’d already spent the morning busy fishing, leaving him tired.

“No, we really don’t.”

* * *

“Yuck, what  _ is  _ this?” Link almost spat the liquid out onto the grass, barely managing to choke down the sip he’d taken.

“It’s what you get when you ask for sweet tea in LA, apparently.” Rhett smirked and settled into the patio chair opposite Link. He’d stopped by Starbucks on his way over to Link’s house, asking for sweet tea. They passed him cups of iced tea and directed him to packets of sugar and sweetener down the counter. “Isn’t like it is back home, is it?”

“No, it sure ain’t,” Link sighed. “I guess a lot of things aren’t, are they?”

Here in Los Angeles, people seemed to think that “sweet tea” meant just this: iced tea with some sugar stirred in at the end. Back home, sweet tea was a carefully crafted art form. It took hours to steep outside in the sun so the sugar would get warm and dissolve, making the tea sweetened through-and-through, instead of just being “tea with sugar.” It may have been the same ingredients, but it was the process that mattered.

Rhett explained this metaphor to Link, talking about how it was process over ingredients. He thought it was the perfect comparison to what he and Link were doing in LA. It had been a big risk moving across the country for a dream, two families uprooted to a whole new place so they could make a name for themselves in the entertainment industry.

“It’s a lot like us, y’know? A lot of people are best friends. A lot of people have Internet shows. Same ingredients, different process,” Rhett explained.

“Yeah, it works well. But this tea definitely doesn’t.” Link reached out and picked Rhett’s cup off of the ground. “You going to drink this? Because if not, I’m swapping them out for some beers.” Rhett laughed and shook his head, handing Link the plastic cup. Link went inside and Rhett picked up his guitar to pluck out a soft acoustic melody while waiting for Link to return. Link emerged from the house with two open bottles, already sweating as they transitioned from the cool fridge to the heat of the yard. They clinked them together, then both took a long swig in unison.

“So here’s what I’m thinkin’. Clow sharks. But like… not the animal. Like a clown that’s also a shark. I’m picturing like, a fin and some giant shoes.” Link grinned, thinking about the red nose and clown makeup and blood from the shark eating it’s prey. He knew he was onto something when his description made Rhett hold his chest with laughter.

“Man, I think we’ve found the secret to never growing up. It’s writing dumb songs about clowns that are also sharks.”

“You sayin’ my idea is dumb?” Link faked an offended expression, his brows furrowing and mouth gaping, but he was having trouble holding back a smile.

“I’m saying it’s the kind of dumb that people have come to expect from us. They’re gonna love it.” Rhett knew Link wasn’t really offended, but tried to encourage him to continue anyway. He was met with a snort and a nod from Link.

“All I know is at some point, I really,  _ really  _ want to scream CLOWWWWWWWNNNN SHAAAARRRRKKKKK!” Link’s yell was ear splitting, and it echoed across nearby backyards. Neither of them could hold in their gasps of laughter anymore, snorting and howling until they couldn’t breathe.

* * *

 

  
Rhett lifted the jar he’d placed outside, studying it. It had the same deep caramel color as always. He took a sip of it, perfectly sweet just like he remembered. It tasted just like Link’s mom used to make, which was his intention. He’d used her recipe, after all. Even though it was a Saturday and he and Link were the only ones in their office’s shared parking lot, he closed the patio space off as much as possible. He wanted to be sure they had privacy as they brainstormed for the upcoming tour.

Link walked outside, two glasses in hand filled with ice. He had a pen tucked behind his ear and a notebook under his arm. Usually he’d use his laptop for brainstorming, typing notes into a shared document, but he didn’t feel like dragging his laptop outside and figured they could go old-school on this one.

Rhett poured him a glass as he got settled on the outdoor couch. He brought Link the glass and Link took a sip.

“Wow, it tastes just like mom’s. Thanks, Rhett.” He stared up at Rhett with wonder.

“Anytime, brother. You ready to figure out the tour?” Instead of choosing the chair across from Link, he sat next to him on the couch. Even though it was fall, the temperature outside was too hot for it to be comfortable sitting this close, but neither of them minded the way their skin prickled with sweat as their arms brushed each other. There was no one around, but it seemed that it never mattered. They always sat so close they were practically touching. If they moved, they’d bump each other with a foot or knee, a stray elbow. They felt like an extension of each other sometimes, two parts of the same body. So even though there were endless options of where to sit on their patio, there was no question they’d be side-by-side for this.

Link started to take notes in the notebook, writing down the details they’d already discussed at the top of the page.

“So you wanted to extend some of our songs, right? Then what?”

“We could read parts of the book,” Rhett offered, and Link scrawled  _ book reading  _ onto the page.

“Okay… which parts are you thinking?” He poised his hand to write the notes on the page, but Rhett didn’t answer. Rhett plucked the pen from between Link’s fingers, then placed it and the notebook on the ground. “Rhett?” Link asked, puzzled. Rhett stayed quiet, lifting his glass to gulp sweet tea.

“I’m thinking I don’t want to think about this right now.” Rhett reached out and ran his fingers through Link’s hair, which now had the thinnest strands of silver in it. His fingers moved, whisper light, along Link’s jawline, feeling the stubble of an unshaven Saturday as he lifted his chin slightly. “I’m thinking I don’t want to think about anything but this.”

He leaned in and softly brushed his lips against Link’s. Link melted into his touch, flicking his tongue across Rhett’s bottom lip. The taste of sweet tea lingered on Rhett, and Link could feel the tickle of his beard on his own chin. For a few minutes, they didn’t say anything, just enjoyed this. Their mouths and bodies worked together, coming closer than was okay in the heat. Link moved from his seated position to shift one leg across Rhett’s lap, moving him into a straddling position. He ran his fingers through Rhett’s hair, peppering sweet, soft kisses along his cheeks, then going in for a deeper kiss. Rhett’s breath shook, his fingers running down Link’s back. Link leaned back into the touch, his hand resting on Rhett’s chest. He took in the sight of his best friend, the golden sunshine of a man he’d known for a lifetime.

“Do you ever feel like we figured all of this out too late, Link? Like maybe we won’t ever have enough time?” His forehead wrinkled with worry. Their 40th birthdays were rapidly approaching and he wondered how many years they’d have left together.

“No, I don’t.” Link leaned to one side, reaching to pick his glass of sweet tea off of the table next to the couch. He took a drink and sat the glass back down as he recalled so many memories they’d shared over the years. “I mean, yes, it will never feel like enough time. That’s not the point, though. I don’t know about you, but I still feel like we’re 17. We hit the jackpot, Rhett. We’ve made an entire career out of never growing up, this entire freakin’ brand, because we stayed young. So no, to answer your question, I don’t think we’re running out of time anytime soon.”

With that reassurance, Rhett felt better, his body relaxing into the moment again. He pulled Link back in with a gentle press of his hand, and they both sank into another kiss under the warm September sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @clemwasjustagirl/shewasjustagirl for the support and enabling, and for helping me make this fic the best version of itself.


End file.
